Anyone with a sweet tooth living in the Helston area in
the 1920s would probably have been a fan of Harry Perry
and his home-made rock stall.

Harry lived with the Downing family in Meneage Street,
Helston where he had a mass of ovens and other
equipment to make rock in all different lengths and
colours. He and his assistant Cissie Downing took the
stall all over the Lizard Peninsula including to St
Keverne for the annual feast celebrations in November.

In the 1920s St Keverne Feast was one of the highlights
of village life. A two day holiday was enjoyed by all
local residents including the children, after
headmaster Tom Whale and deputy head Lewis John Hayden
decided there was little point opening the school for
only a handful of youngsters from outside the village.

Monday was the day for hunting with beaters hired to
feed the band of guns at regular shoots at Lanarth. The
rest of the men-folk made their way to the Lowlands via
Trebarveth Farm lane to secure a good vantage point
from which to watch the hounds. Other sportsmen were
also out hunting - a crowd going looking for rabbits,
armed mostly with nets, and others shooting wood
pigeons from the trees.

On the Tuesday - the main Feast day - the village was a
hive of activity as the stallholders, including Harry
Perry, arrived to claim their stall or
"standing" for the day.

On one Feast Tuesday Harry invited Dick Lory and me to
visit him one evening in Helston to see the rock and
other confectionary being made. A few days later we set
off on Dick's motorbike with me as pillion. We
spent a very pleasant evening with Harry, helping him
to mix and taste various potions, liquids and
colourings and then filling the moulds with them.
However, we did not realise that some of the mixtures
were very potent, a fact that we did not notice until
we came out into the cold night air at about 11
o'clock to ride back to St Keverne. Dick drove hell
for leather and was going so fast around Treskewes
corners that he struck one of them. I was thrown over
the hedge while Dick was hanging half way up the hedge.
We pushed the bike to Dr Spry's surgery at
Polventon but it was a long wait to see the doctor
because he was at one of his dance sessions which did
not end until midnight. I left Dick at the surgery and
went home, hoping that no-one would see my face
bleeding from being torn by brambles. Unfortunately, my
older sister Edna was waiting for me and, after giving
me a good telling off, then proceeded to go and spill
the beans to Dick's sister Winnie. Dick needed six
stitches in his head wound and probably had a scar for
the rest of his life.